


A Certain Kind of Blood

by ScarletDeva



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Drabbles, F/M, Gen, Insane Crossover, M/M, Multi, Squib Vampire, Squipire?, Vampire Babysitting Service, Vampire Squib, idiots drinking, what am i even doing?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-07 07:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletDeva/pseuds/ScarletDeva
Summary: When Draco Malfoy lets Hermione Granger into the library at Malfoy Manor to research for her book on pureblood history, he isn't entirely prepared for what she will find. (drabbles in a bizarre AU)





	1. Chapter 1

"Hm," Hermione muttered as she drew a fingertip under a line and Draco looked over to see her dash up and grab for another old, fat tome.

"Did you find something?"

The look on her face was... peculiar. Half glee and half apology.

Draco knew that Hermione's research into pureblood history would uncover not a few hypocrisies, dark secrets and plenty of nonsense. He was prepared. Or he thought so anyway.

"Did you know that there was a Squib line in your family?"

He winced. "I would guess my ancestors threw the Squib out on the street."

"No, actually," Hermione replied. "Annabelle Malfoy was the firstborn and her parents managed to transition her to British polite society on the muggle side. She married well and had a son, William. William Pratt."

Draco blinked.

Hermione bit her lip, which promptly distracted him, and thus it took him a few seconds to register what she said next. "William is a vampire. He goes by Spike."

Draco paused. He blinked again. Twice. And then he roared in laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco and Hermione had a hotly contested best two out of three rock paper scissors battle. Hermione won with a smug grin but promised to share the memory. Draco regretted losing but, when he reluctantly admitted that she was victorious, Hermione made a little squeal as she pulled him into an impromptu hug, and that somehow made up for it. He studiously ignored the disturbingly Malfoyesque smirk on Spike's face.

He distracted himself by dinner with Mother, Aunt Andromeda and little Teddy (the last of whom sported platinum blond hair and pointy cheekbones for most of the meal).

In the meantime, Hermione got Spike through Azkaban's visitor clearance, headed by Ernie MacMillan who dubiously eyed the blond, pointy cheekboned man... err, vampire.

Lucius Malfoy had not been expecting guests. His son never came and his wife only deigned to bless him with her presence on major holidays.

He certainly wasn't expecting Mudblood Granger. Or the strange man next to her.

Hermione smiled widely. "Mr. Malfoy, so good to see you. You're looking healthy and well." And he was, although the neon orange prison garb did nothing for his complexion.

Lucius merely raised an elegant eyebrow.

Hermione looked over at Spike, who bonelessly oozed into one of the metal chairs, managing to look as comfortable as if he was lounging on a chesterfield.

"I have good news for you," she said and dumped the records on the table. "Please meet William Pratt, son of Annabelle Malfoy, your first cousin many times removed*."

Lucius didn't deign to look at the paperwork and scoffed.

"Hullo, cousin," Spike said with a grin and immediately vamped out.

If the chairs weren't bolted down, Lucius would have tumbled his to the ground. As it was, he only awkwardly dropped down, slamming his elbow into a table leg, and then surged to his feet. "You are an abomination and no cousin of mine."

"Nope," Spike replied. "Definitely a cousin." He buffed his nails along the zipper on his leather duster.

"And a Squib too," Hermione added with a gleeful maliciousness.

The particular shade of magenta that Lucius turned at this pronouncement was forever immortalized once Dean Thomas viewed Hermione's memory seven times and painted a muggle style portrait that Draco kept in his desk.

The portrait came out to play only twice - the first time for Spike's official reinstatement into the Malfoy family, and the second time to attend the grand society Granger-Malfoy wedding. Lucius himself was not invited.


	3. Chapter 3

Spike still couldn't figure out why Draco (his cousin???) and Hermione routinely left him with baby Lyra. He thought about eating her once or twice but never seriously and Lyra thought that his vamp face was about the funniest thing in the whole world.

He called her Lil Bit. (Dawn didn't mind the passing on of the nickname.)

She, in her eighteen month old babble glory, called him Pike.

To be fair, he was the only one without a job and mostly bummed around the Manor except when he occasionally consulted for the Aurors and even more occasionally for the Slayers.

Andromeda was doing Charms development part-time and raising Teddy full time. Narcissa was spending well over regular hours bringing the Malfoy Charitable Foundation to new heights of philanthropy and renown. Draco was managing the Malfoy family holdings. And Hermione was of course climbing ranks through the Ministry and cleaning house along the way.

Of course there was Lucius, and Spike snorted, but no one was leaving Lyra with him. In fact, he had never even met little Lyra. ...he hadn't, had he.

Lyra looked at him dubiously; the cackle that left his throat may have been a bit much.

He bundled Lyra into the big bubble jacket that Mrs. Granger recently purchased for the tot and used the Floo (which was thankfully usable by muggles unlike Apparition).

Ernie MacMillan, like everyone else in the Wizarding World (Hermione's book was a massive hit), was now well aware of the connection between Spike and all the other pointy blond people in England. He processed him through quickly.

"Hullo, cousin," Spike greeted Lucius cheerfully. His teeth flashed white in a large grin.

Lucius was not magenta. Yet.

"As Hermione was so gracious to introduce me to you, my best wanker cousin," Spike said, "I thought I'd pass on the favor."

"What do you want, abomination?" Lucius gritted through his teeth.

Spike gleefully pulled the green hat knitted by the esteemed Mrs. Weasley (she learned to make fantastic chicken wings just for him) off Lyra's bouncy, platinum curls.

Lyra pouted and grabbed for the hat. "Pike! My hat!"

"I know, Lil Bit," he replied and then turned to Lucius, judiciously holding Lyra with his body turned just so Lucius could see her but so that he could body block Lucius in case his head exploded. "I thought you'd like to meet your granddaughter, Lyra Hypatia Malfoy. Lyra for the Blacks of course and Hermione picked out her middle name."

"That me!" Lyra chimed in. She patted herself on the chest and looked curiously at the strange man who looked kind of like Papa but not very nice.

Lucius sat frozen, his jaw pulsating with rage.

"What, no hello?" Spike taunted but, just as Lucius tried to fling himself over the table, he flew in the opposite direction and hit the wall, clattering to the ground.

Ernie popped his head through the door. "Alright, mate?"

"Good security," Spike praised. He sat Lyra on the chair and knelt down next to a dazed Lucius and patted him on the shoulder. "There, there, poppet."

Spike would pay for taking Lyra to Azkaban without permission for probably the rest of Lyra's life. But the second portrait was totally worth it.


	4. Chapter 4

Lyra's departure to Hogwarts for the first time led to a fierce many week long debate between Draco and Hermione about which House she'd be sorted into. Narcissa and Spike only exchanged looks and shook their heads. Lyra herself was awash in a sea of excitement and didn't particularly care. She was ready to go.

Jamey would be coming too and his dads were reluctantly convinced that he would wear silver and green (and Uncle Theo was very good at hiding his glee when Uncle Harry lamented it). Jamey was her best friend no matter what.

Lyra's parents were still bickering even at the platform and Spike rolled his eyes knelt down and straightened her collar. "You take care, Lil Bit."

"I will, Pike," she replied and flung her arms around him. The charm that Mum found to allow Spike in the sun for short periods of time was the best present that Lyra got when she was five. Rigel and Orion were the worst gift that year of course, even if they grew on her since, like fungus as Uncle George often said. She smooched the twins, her parents, Gran and Grandpa Granger, and Nana Narcissa and let Jamey drag her off.

The rest of the day went by in a blur and it was only when Lyra settled into bed and pulled up her covers that she realized that she would no longer be sleeping at home in her own bed. She sniffed, then pulled aside the blankets to dig into her bedside table for her special mirror. She unwrapped it, tugged the curtains around her bed, and blew on the mirror then quietly called, "Pike."

He promptly answered. "I'm here, Lil Bit."

Lyra blinked, her eyes stinging.

Spike made a face, then sighed and vamped out, pulling an unwilling giggle from the little witch.

"I'm alright," she promised and then she grinned. "And I'm a Hufflepuff."


	5. Chapter 5

The Manor was veritably overrun by children while most of the adults were off watching Ron Weasley compete in a chess tournament in Prague. Lyra, Rigel and Orion of course were home and Teddy was staying as he often was. Theo and Harry dropped off Jamey and Lily Minerva (who insisted that she be called Lily Minerva every time). Ginny and Blaise whirled through, leaving Fabian and Rahim (apparently twins ran in the family). Pandora ran ahead of Luna, Pansy and Rolf, who stopped to chat for a while. Ron's crowd of supporters (all dressed by Hermione and Harry to attend a muggle event) was actually much bigger than that but thankfully no one else had gotten around to breeding quite yet.

Also thankfully, Andromeda and Narcissa stayed behind to help. Spike carefully did not think about the ridiculous group text started by Dawn where that little traitor constantly shared pictures of him with the kids. The glee that Angel derived from the small human infestation of Spike's life was as unavoidable as it was maddening. To everyone's misfortune, Faith taught Angel about memes on her last visit and Spike owed her a good hiding - oh if only.

Spike was distracted from his vengeance planning by Rigel and Orion who crawled from Nana Narcissa over to him and smugly claimed an ankle each.

"No!" Lyra stomped her foot. "He's my Pike!"

Spike blindingly realized that his life as a Malfoy was both punishment for his decades of misdeeds and his reward for saving the world a few times.

He could only sigh in resignation when the whole crowd returned, with Ron not only victorious but now engaged to Kanok Saengkaew, a chess champion in her own right, and Spike was sure that he could see the impending baby-making in their dopey grins.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione literally had no idea how her life ended up where it was - living in Malfoy Manor (thankfully completely renovated by Narcissa and Andromeda), married to Draco (who was still a prat but kind and loving in his own weird way), and having a formerly evil vampire baby-sitting her daughter - a formerly evil vampire who took said daughter to Azkaban to spite-meet her grandfather without permission.

It sounded insane.

Her family was insane.

But until just about five minutes prior, Harry had her beaten in the number of children, Lily Minerva having been born just two years after Lyra and Jamey who were born a scant few days apart. Now, she was ahead again, Rigel Leonardo (after DaVinci) lounging in his beaming father's lap and Orion Raoul (after Raoul Wallenberg, a WWII hero who saved many Jews, including Hermione's own grandmother, Rivkah) quietly breathing against her chest.

Lyra, whose pout grew exponentially with Hermione's belly, was home with Teddy, Spike, Narcissa and Hermione's own parents. It took all of them to keep her occupied with Draco and Andromeda stayed with Hermione. Andromeda wiped Hermione's sodden brow and Hermione smiled up at her.

"Thank you for being here with us," Draco told his - their - aunt.

Her family was insane. But it was hers and she wouldn't trade it for anything.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione’s fingers were going a little numb under Harry’s anxious grip and she desperately had to pee as the Granger-Malfoy fetus danced on her bladder, but instead she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. He turned panicked green eyes to her.

“It’s going to be alright,” she soothed. “Daphne is one of the toughest witches that we know and Theo is right there with her. And the Healer team is top notch, too.”

“Sometimes, I can’t believe that Daphne actually agreed to do this,” Harry said, his musing tone at odds with his whitened knuckles.

Hermione lifted her head and pressed a kiss to his cheek then grinned. “She’s Theo’s Hermione.”

Harry released her hand and then swept her up in a hug as crushing as he could make it while still being careful of her rounded belly. He inhaled the woodsy smell of her curls and could suddenly feel his clenched stomach relaxing. “I know.” Until Theo, Hermione was the only person that he could always, always rely on. He had other friends of course, Ron and Neville and Luna and everyone else, but none of whom were waiting with him because he only wanted Hermione - Hermione, who was family in a way that was always first and always there.

“So are you going to tell me the baby’s name now?” she murmured against his ear.

He sighed. “Yeah. Theo and I have been going back and forth for a year now but… We’re calling him James. James Regulus.” Hermione was (rightly) the second person to know - the first was Daphne, because they decided as soon as she screamed from the guest room that she was in labor.

It was more or less blindingly evident why Regulus - a Slytherin that found redemption. Just like Theo.

“Oh.”

“I know he wasn’t a very good person really,” Harry confessed quietly. “But he was my father and he died trying to save me.”

She nodded, her chin sliding against his shoulder. “Baby Jamey will be alright,” she promised.

Before Harry could say anything more, a disheveled Theo emerged from the labor and delivery room, a small bundle held in his arms.

Harry pressed a quick kiss to Hermione’s temple and stood up to meet his son.

Hermione smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

Everyone was well aware that Hermione was not willing to rest on the laurels of defeating Voldemort and winning the war. She graciously let them all have a day of rest after all the funerals and speeches and events ended before cleverly lying in wait at the breakfast table for Harry and Ron with drawn-out plans that she plonked between the plate of bacon rashers and the bowl of fried tomatoes. They were too sleepy to protest.

Seven years later, they - and everyone else - were well used to the regular scheming that kept Hermione’s constantly updated plans to bring equality and justice to the Wizarding World on track.

So while Hermione commandeered the Small Malfoy Library with Theo (her usual partner in crime - err… justice), Susan Bones and Anthony Goldstein (a warmly welcomed newcomer), the lucky escapees congregated in Draco’s office.

“Raise,” Harry said as he carefully pushed a stack of chips to the growing pile.

Neville looked from Harry to Draco and nudged forward his own chips. “Raise.”

Draco squinted. “Call.”

Spike fanned his cards, the bulky silver rings glinting in the low light, and smirked as he laid his hand on the table.

“Dammit,” Harry muttered. He took a swig, draining the Ogden’s still remaining in his tumbler.

“Why does he always win?” Draco complained, his voice slightly slurred, and removed the stopper from the decanter and refilled everyone’s drinks.

“Cause you have a shit poker face, Ferret,” Neville shot and then looked startled. Harry giggled.

“Well your face is stupid!” Draco returned, landing the decanter back on the table none too gently.

“You all have piss poor poker faces, you pissed wankers,” Spike said and picked up the cards to shuffle them.

“Hey!” Neville protested, his head swiveling between Draco and Spike.

“Yeah, well you’re a… a gormless pillock!” Draco returned with a huff.

“Tosser!”

“Manky plonker!”

“Berky chuffer!”

Nanny appeared in her usual small but brilliant light array, startling Harry out of his chair and onto the floor. She was an old Malfoy elf retainer and had a good hand in raising Draco from infancy. The minor fireworks signaling her entry, however, were George’s fault.

Nanny firmly set the platter of finger foods on the table between the warring blond men. “Nanny sees silly Malfoys fighting,” she said in a warning tone.

“Hullo, Nanny,” Draco greeted her, his pouting frown immediately giving way to a not particularly convincing expression of saintly innocence.

“Malfoys be eating,” Nanny prodded Draco with a pointed finger and then poked Spike in the chest. “Malfoys not be fighting. Malfoys set good example.”

Harry climbed back in his chair, rubbing his hip, and tried to snatch a devilled egg, liberally sprinkled with paprika, but found his fingers smacked away as Spike got to the platter for the sliced blood sausage.

Mouth full of food, Spike muttered something that may have been agreement but was probably a lie anyway.

Nanny crossed her arms over her chest.

“I will keep watch on the buffoons,” Neville promised and Draco tried to pull a scary face behind Nanny’s back.

“You is a good boy,” Nanny said and vanished.

“Blighter,” Draco muttered between bites of prawn cocktail before Neville tossed a skewer at his head.

“Next round?” Harry asked, finally getting past Spike to the platter and jamming the devilled egg into his mouth.

Spike chewed thoughtfully on his sausage then picked up the deck. “Maybe you gits will actually learn to play better than Lil Bit one day.”

“SPIKE!”


	9. Chapter 9

Draco had arranged for a Portkey and reserved a private conference room at the Malfoy Firm building and, if anyone wondered why he was accompanied by Hermione Granger, Hero and Recipient of the Order of Merlin First Class, no one asked out loud.

Draco discarded his robes in his office, which was a spacious suite with a big closet and his own full bathroom. Underneath, he wore a tailored charcoal suit with a pale blue shirt and a striped tie along with his favorite handmade leather shoes. He would not have looked out of place in any Muggle boardroom.

Hermione on the other hand simply braided her hair back and threw on a sweater and jeans to his disapproval. 

“Did you have to wear that?” he asked as they walked over to the conference room.

“Did you have to wear THAT?” she returned with a grin.

If Draco was to be frank, her jeans were skintight and he was distracted. He sniffed imperiously, the tips of his ears flushing a soft rose.

She patted his arm. “It’ll be fine. He’s a Malfoy but he wasn’t raised by your grandparents.”

He frowned as he opened the door. “He’s a formerly evil vampire.” Then he closed the door behind Hermione and sat down primly at the head of the rectangular table. “And are you sure he’s formerly evil?”

“Yes, Draco,” she soothed and plopped down in the chair next to him. “Wow, these are comfortable!”

“Made by house elves in a Thai factory,” he said seriously and then cracked a smile when she smacked his shoulder. “Kidding, kidding. They’re made by wizards in Lyon. Besides you know Nanny would murder me if I supported elf abuse.”

Nanny, a wizened elf who helped raise several generations of Malfoys, was a brief point of contention until Nanny herself explained to Hermione that “Nanny not belong to Malfoys. Malfoys belong to Nanny.” Lucius was Nanny’s greatest regret but even elf magic is only so powerful. She was tooth-rottingly proud of Draco though.

“I know,” Hermione said and glanced at the clock on the wall just as a figure appeared and gracefully landed on his feet. 

“Hullo,” said Spike, formerly William Pratt, son of Annabelle Malfoy Pratt. He wore a long black duster, a black t-shirt, and jeans with motorcycle boots. Draco got to his feet and approached him, the two blond, pale, pointy cheekboned men examining each other carefully.

Simultaneously, they turned to Hermione - “I don’t see it.”


End file.
